


It's never "Just Business"

by Snobantiker



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Angst, Drama baby drama, F/M, Romance, Spying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 08:40:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3889765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snobantiker/pseuds/Snobantiker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A spy at the French court is uncovered, a lady-in-waiting with a connection to Captain Treville....</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's never "Just Business"

**Author's Note:**

> Drama baby, drama or "The dramatic ending of a story I might never write". According to my wonderful, lovely beta fredbassett it still works well as a standalone and is self-explanatory. So enjoy.

Michelle let the pistol fall to the ground and offered her hands to Treville in a gesture of resignation, expecting them to be bound. But he didn’t bother and ignored the gesture. He knew the spy wouldn’t be able to escape. Instead he reached for her and removed the hood and the additional cloth underneath that covered her whole head, using slow and gentle movements, and then stepped back, while Athos – watchful and the whole time pointing his own weapon at the spy - slowly picked up the pistol.

The only sign that the captain recognized Michelle was him closing his eyes for a second. At the lack of surprise Michelle let her arms sink and sighed. “How long have you known?”

“Two weeks, but I had hoped I was wrong,” Treville said quietly and continued, knowing she was curious about what had given her away: “It was an accident, to be honest. Two of my Musketeers witnessed a Silvio Panucci being killed in a robbery gone wrong. When they arrested the robbers and searched them for evidence, they found your detailed report about our latest secret trade agreement with Sweden. They recognized its importance and brought it straight to me.”

“But I didn’t sign it! I never even mentioned anything that could lead back to me! I just wrote down the hard facts.” Michelle was confused. She’d never even met the man but she couldn’t reveal that fact or they would be aware that she must have another accomplice in Paris. “How did you know it was me?”

The captain hesitated, clearly not wanting to say it out loud and looked down, absently playing with the black cloth he still held in his hand before he finally blurted out: “I … recognized the handwriting.” He blushed slightly and wouldn’t meet her eyes. What Michelle didn’t realize at that moment and what Treville probably would never admit to anyone was just how many lonely or sleepless nights he must have spent studying her letter and her few precious notes over and over again.

“Oh.” she said in a small voice and then added a little louder a heartfelt. “Damn.”

Swearing wasn’t at all ladylike, but that didn’t matter any more. She had been so careful – and quite successful – in the three years she had been at the French court. She had only given account of the most important and profitable things so as to not endanger her cover and had always carefully crafted her reports. Thanks to her amazing memory she didn’t even have to take notes during her spying business, which made discovery even less likely as she could write down everything she had seen and read anytime she wanted and never missed a tiny detail. But it had never occurred to her to alter her handwriting in those reports.

xxxxxxxxxx

When she was led out of the palace by Captain Treville and his faithful musketeers Aramis, Porthos and d’Artagnan to be questioned further at the nearest prison, it was already past dawn, the sun promising a beautiful day, but nobody noticed or was in the mood to talk.

At the entrance they were stopped by a slightly unsettled but fuming queen. Athos, who had informed her about the whole affair, was three steps behind her, along with Constance. “A moment please, Captain.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.” Treville bowed – as did the other musketeers - and stepped aside. Even Michelle lowered her head; after all she did respect the queen.

Anne studied the spy in front of her for a long moment, before she asked in a sharp tone: “Why? Why did you betray your country, Michelle?” It was evident that the queen was hurt.

The ladies-in-waiting at the French court might gossip like fishwives and the queen probably didn’t trust any of them with her really important secrets, especially since Constance had arrived, but the women who served the queen were at least supposed to be trustworthy in general and loyal. Michelle was aware that most of the ladies rather looked down on the queen as she would always be a foreigner. The spy had never understood that, the queen had won her respect very quickly. So Michelle had tried to be a little friendlier than the other ladies (not enough to endanger her cover) and she knew as they all spent so much time together that Anne cared about all of them, despite everything.

“But I didn’t, Your Majesty”, Michelle replied calmly. Before the queen could protest, she added: “The real Michelle de Trossy never even arrived in Paris.”

Queen Anne and Constance gasped, horrified at that bombshell, while the men looked at each other in worry. How could they have missed that and for so long?

“Did you kill her?” the queen asked.

“No”, the spy answered truthfully. It couldn’t do any harm to tell that part. Thanks to Panucci’s death they would never find out that he had been a double agent working not for Italy but England. She was the only lead they had and she would never talk. “She and her family are unharmed. They are … honored guests … of my employer, living quietly but comfortably at a secret location. If you let it be known that the Count de Trossy has had a heart attack and Michelle is on her way back to see him, they will be released – which has always been the plan in the case of a blown cover.” They were guarded by well-paid mercenaries who frankly didn’t care who they worked for. Again, there was no trail that led back to England. “This was about money and influence, Your Majesty and to be honest, unnecessary killing is quite bad for business.” The family had been chosen carefully, because while there were so few members left that their absence would hardly be missed, it still had a lot of influence in Paris that one could wield with a single letter.

Anne looked disgusted at the last sentence but didn’t comment. “So… who are you then?” the queen demanded.

Michelle just shook her head. She couldn’t tell them or they would know she was English, not Italian. But she also didn’t want to lie more than necessary, especially to Treville. She owed him that much. So she changed the subject to an unasked question the queen certainly had. “One thing you should know Your Majesty. Whatever you might think of me now, rest assured that I never reported on your personal affairs. I give you my word that any trust placed in me in that regard, as little as it might have been at times, has never been betrayed.”

Anne was furious “Am I supposed to believe that, spy?” She didn’t raise her voice but the last word was nearly spat out.

“Yes, Your Majesty”, Michelle answered simply, looking right into Anne’s eyes.

The queen wasn’t in the mood to accept that at face value so she turned to Treville, straightening up as much as possible and said: “Please, Captain, carry on.”

Treville bowed deeply as did the other Musketeers and Michelle while the queen and Constance retired into the palace.

The captain started to lead Michelle toward the waiting horses but then hesitated and turned to her. “Has it all been a lie?” Treville sounded sad and a bit lost.

Aramis, Porthos und Athos looked at each other uncomfortably while d’Artagnan couldn’t hide his holy anger (Nobody had the right to betray and hurt his captain!). All four stepped slowly aside and pretended not to listen, though, giving the pair some privacy.

“No! … No. My instructor always said the best place to hide a lie was in as much truth as possible.” Michelle unconsciously got half a step closer and looked up into those intense blue eyes. “I only lied when it was necessary to protect my cover or to get to the information I needed. Everything else was as close to the real me as possible.” She started to lift her hand, wanted so much to touch his face, it hurt. But in the end she didn’t have the courage, fearing a rejection, so her hand only hovered for a second near his cheek and then fell down again to her side. “Getting … closer to you had never been part of the plan.” On the contrary: her handler had warned her that it might be dangerous, that it couldn’t end well but she hadn’t listened. She had been falling in love, after all.

Suddenly she felt a sudden pain at her neck.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Treville knew that he shouldn’t trust her, that she would do anything to escape him. But he couldn’t help himself, he wanted to believe her, wanted to take the hand that had nearly touched him a moment ago and kiss it. Reluctantly he opened his mouth, but before he could reply, Michelle frowned.

She grabbed for whatever had stung her and when she opened her hand she and Treville could see a small dart. They locked eyes both knowing immediately what it meant. It looked like her employer didn’t trust her after all.

“So that’s the reward for loyalty.” she murmured.

“Assassin! Porthos, d’Artagnan, get him!” Treville barked at the surprised Musketeers who hadn’t noticed anything, pointing in the direction where the dart must have come from but never taking his eyes from Michelle. The soldiers recovered quickly though and sped away.

A second later, Aramis had assessed the situation as well. “I’ll get Doctor Lemay!” That left Athos. Looking at the pair in front of him he decided to stay and stand guard, keeping a watchful eye on the tree line in the unlikely case that the assassin returned.

It was a fast-working poison. She had already started to stumble and only Treville’s arms prevented her sudden fall. Gently he layed her down so they were both sitting.

With great effort Michelle raised her hand again. This time she didn’t hesitate and touched his cheek. “I am sorry, Jean, I never intended to hurt you.”

In their whole blossoming relationship she’d seldom used his christian name. Maybe it was the final straw. Be it as it may, Treville couldn’t take it any more; he crushed his lips on hers. They both knew it would be their last so they put everything in that kiss: passion and love, despair and the grief for all the time they could have had together then hope and forgiveness. The kiss should have lasted forever but in the end it wasn’t long before they had to part because Michelle started to convulse and fight for every breath she took.

She looked deeply into his eyes, and he knew they were going to be the last thing she ever saw. “I…” she coughed “…love…” Michelle never got to finish that sentence.

xxxxxxxxxx

The other musketeers were nowhere to be seen and Doctor Lemay still hadn’t arrived. Athos didn’t care for the shadow of doubt that started to creep into Treville’s face. He had seen the two together, now and in the last couple of months, and he was absolutely sure that she had been sincere in her feelings for his friend and commanding officer.

“Captain, I doubt she used her last breath to lie to you,” he said with his calming voice and put a hand on Treville’s shoulder.

The captain looked at Athos for a moment, nodded in a silent agreement and carefully put the woman on the ground. There was nothing more anyone could do.

xxxxxxxxxx

Treville stood at the fresh grave hardly noticing the rain pouring down. The mortuary attendants were long gone and he’d refused the company of any of his musketeers.

He hardly knew anything about the woman that lay there, not even her name. Technically she had been an enemy. Hell, the assassin hadn’t been caught so he didn’t even know who he could blame for her death. Couldn’t even avenge her. But one thing was certain: He wouldn’t be able to forget her. She would always have a place in his heart.

xxxxxxxxxxx

From afar a concealed person watched Treville. His face was unreadable but he looked a decade older. Her heart broke for him. She wanted desperately to go to him. Tell him the truth, comfort him in his grief. But she couldn’t, it would be their death sentence.

Michelle had been shocked and baffled when she’d awoken a couple of hours ago but her handler had filled her in quickly. She might ultimately have failed her country so her fate was sealed. But her past successes and loyalty were still a major factor that spoke in her favor so he had given her a chance of survival by using a poison that wouldn’t necessary kill but was intended to put her into a state that resembled death very closely. Not all survived the reanimation but she had, without any lasting damage. Organizing a smaller than average female body with long, black hair for a quick funeral had been a piece of cake.

Her handler had even granted her this moment to give her some closure but now it was high time she disappeared forever. After a last long glance at the man she deeply loved she went in the direction of the docks where her reward waited: an honorable retirement, a quiet, anonymous but, in the end, boring life in the new world.

**Author's Note:**

> I really do not know, if I'll ever write the rest because if I do it, I want to do it right. And it would be hell of a lot of work. So don't get your hopes up ;-) (I know, I know, I hate unfinished stories myself, I am sorry. Hell, I wouldn't even mind if someone ELSE finished that story ^^).


End file.
